Iggy's Ride
by RangerKimmy
Summary: So we all see the awkward relationship between Maximum and Fang. But when, amidst a midair battle, Iggy gets shot in the shoulder and plummets to Earth, he lands in the backyard of young Cammy Gnorts. Iggy gets his own small tale--Iggy's Ride.
1. 1 Dropping Bullets

I scanned the ground below us, looking for a safe spot to rest. It was late, and the wings of my flock were beating down hard on the gusts of wind pushing against us. Nudge, our little motormouth, was chattering darling Angel's ears off. Fang, the ever silent, sleek, handsome—scratch that. Fang, the quiet one, flew slightly behind me and to the left, with the same, unreadable expression planted on his face (oh, and I can't forget to mention our black Scottie, Total, in his arms). Farthest behind was Gazzy, who held on to the hand of our blind member of the family, Iggy.  
I peered back down to the earth, and caught sight of a large cluster of trees ahead of us. The coast seemed clear—it never is, but _seeming_ is as close as we ever get—so I gestured down to it and called out, "Fang, check it out."

He cast his eyes in the direction that I pointed, and nodded, banking to the right to swoop beside Gazzy and Iggy and inform them of the location to rest.

"Hey, Nudge, can you turn off the motor for a minute?" I called out to her. Interrupted in her conversation, she turned to smile sheepishly at me and nod. Angel sent an expression of relief in my direction. I smiled back—god, she is the _cutest_ little girl.

"We're coming up on a dense patch of trees," I explained, indicating the ground ahead of us. "We'll stop for a rest there tonight. If nothing manages to hunt us down and attack us, we might get a good night's sleep."

"_Finally_!" I heard an indignant voice cry behind me. "A place to rest! I'm bushed! We've been flying for_ever_!"

"'_We'_, Total?" I exclaimed in reply to our talking Scottie, floating back to get a look at him. "_You_ get to hang around in someone's arms all day. We're the ones who fly—_you_ get to sightsee!"

"Well regardless!" He exclaimed, wriggling in Fang's grasp. "Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is, having to ride in someone's arms? Really, you should think about some sort of strapped _seat—_"

"No chance," Fang said shortly, peering at the dog. "I'd drop you before I stuck a first-class airplane seat on my back for you."

"You would not!" Total gasped.

"Try me," He retorted warningly.

I grinned and flew to the front, coasting close enough to Angel to ruffle her shiny, bouncy blonde hair and tweak her nose. "Ready for a good night's sleep, kid?"

"Mm-hm," she replied, beaming at me. "Everyone has been complaining for the last hour about wanting some sleep." She tapped a finger on her forehead. "Up here, anyway."

"Do you think there are any animals in the trees down there?" Nudge asked. "I mean, like, squirrels or something. The last time we stayed in a forest, there was a really angry squirrel in my tree. It chirped at me all night and stuff! And the owls get all ruffled about it, and—"

"_Nudge_," I butted in. "I don't know. Maybe. If there's an angry squirrel, just throw some acorns at it, or something."

She shrugged, continuing to mutter to herself about the broached incident. I beat my wings to get ahead of the flock, and guide our descent down to the forest—

_Zzzing!_

I heard the familiar whisper of a bullet as it shot by my ear. Immediately I tucked in my wings to abruptly drop about four feet, to disrupt the crosshairs of whoever was shooting at us. "Guys! Bullets! Everybody scatter and keep in constant motion!" I ordered firmly. Instantly the flock split apart and flew into disarray, to follow my instruction.

"Nice to see you, too," A voice growled. I looked up to see Ari and a pack of Erasers shoot out from a cloud, toward us.

"Hiding in _clouds_ now?" I sneered, ducking a kick that he aimed at my head. "That's new. _And_ you have ground cover. Someone else must be doing the thinking, besides you."

"Shut up!" He snarled, throwing a punch at my stomach. I backpedaled in the air and rose up, sending a kick toward his face—which successfully collided, and startled him enough for him to partially close his wings and drop down a couple of feet. I took the chance to whirl around and check out the rest of the flock.

Fang was holding his own against two Erasers despite having to handle Total, who was stuffed down in his shirt. Angel had teamed up with her brother, Gazzy, and the two of them were battling it out against three more Erasers—scratch that, two, as one of Gazzy and Iggy's famous bombs detonated on its wings and it plummeted. Finally, there were Nudge and Iggy, who had also paired up—Nudge, the talented talker, was in a punch battle with one monstrous Eraser while giving Iggy direction. I'm pretty sure I saw Iggy stuff a bomb into the back of one Eraser's—

_Smack!_ My head jerked back as Ari's fist collided with my jaw. I backed away and massaged my face, grunting. A smug grin crossed his face. "Don't get so distracted, Max. That's so lame, having to take care of others. It really messes you up, doesn't it?"

"As opposed to you? You're just a lonely kid trapped in an ugly body!" I snapped, throwing a punch at him. He caught me by the wrist and twisted my arm painfully, and pushed it against my back. His available arm snaked around my waist and he held on tightly, roughly, and he said, "Watch. If you hadn't noticed, these Erasers are new model. Your little _flock_ is about to have its wings clipped."

I shot a glare at him from the corner of my eye, but turned to survey the scene. Horrified, I realized that the "beaten down" Erasers suddenly seemed to gather a second wind. One that had been fighting Fang suddenly broke ranks and rocketed toward Angel, colliding with her and grabbing her hair to hold her still. He clasped a hand over her mouth to keep her from trying to use her "influential talking" power, and his face broke into a nasty grin. Gazzy, startled, turned to face the new arrival, but the two Erasers that he had been crossing swords with grabbed him by the arms, capturing him. The lone Eraser fighting Fang grabbed his shirt and ripped it open, sending Total falling to the earth. Fang dove to catch him, and the Eraser followed, kicking him square in the middle of his back.

"_Fang_!" I cried. "Gazzy, Angel! Hold on!" I struggled in Ari's grip, frustrated, and kicked at his shin. He grunted, and pushed my arm further against my back. I groaned and snarled at him. "You're _sick_, Ari!"

"Yeah, well, I learn to live with it," he retorted flatly.

"Nudge, Iggy, make a break for it!" I screamed. "You know where to go!"

Nudge turned to follow orders, saw the rest of the flock captured, and gasped. Lost without direction, a confused Iggy cried, "Nudge, don't stop talking! Where are they?!"

Suddenly, I heard it again. _Zzzing!_

"Bullet!" I hollered as Nudge reached for Iggy's arm—which abruptly jerked backward along with the rest of him, his face an expression of blank surprise. Blood blossomed across his left shoulder. Taking advantage of the moment, an Eraser punched him first in the stomach, and then in the side of his head.

"Iggy!" Nudge cried, reaching, but the last of the Erasers grabbed hold of her and kept her back.

"I'm okay, guys," Iggy muttered. "Just a bullet." Then his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his wings tucked in, and he nose-dived to earth.

"Iggy!" I screamed. "_Iggy!_"


	2. 2 Needle in a Haystack

"Oh, just _look_ at that pretty sunset."

Cammy Gnorts held her arms upward and wiggled her fingers as she stretched, breathing deeply as she gazed at the mixing-bowl of colors splashed across the sky as the sun crept down below the horizon. Kicking the screen door shut behind her, she tugged on a pair of brown boots and strode off her back porch and toward the large horse barn in the enormous backyard.

Inside, she sidled up to a brown mare and petted its neck as it pushed up against the gate holding it inside its stall. Cammy pulled an apple out of her pocket and held it out to the horse, which leaned down and ate the fruit in two large bites. Smiling, she stroked its mane.

"It's just you and me tonight, Star. Dad's off to work, and the dummy brother is at a friend's house. Want to go for a ride?" She inquired in soothing tones, unlatching its gate and leading it out of the stall. The horse snorted delightfully in her ear, tossing her hair into her face. Laughing, she brushed the hair out of her eyes and continued, "First we'll stop by the hay pile outside so you can have some supper. Then we'll go."

She walked Star up to an enormous stack of hay just outside the barn, and immediately the stallion went to work on the nearest patch of fodder, burying its head into the grain and chewing eagerly.

"Boy, weren't you hungry," she murmured, turning around and flopping backward into the hay, smiling serenely. "I love the smell of hay. If only I didn't have all—" she paused to sneeze loudly, and sighed. "...Allergies." Turning over, she watched Star push aside some of the hay and nuzzle at something buried within.

"What'cha got, there?" she asked, heaving herself up into a sitting position to get a better look. Star scraped his hoof on the ground and snorted nervously, nosing the object again. "Did Sam leave some weird toy of his in there again? Dumb boy..."

Abruptly, a strange noise came from within the hay, near the object. Startled, Cammy leaned in and tilted her head toward the noise, straining to hear better. The sound came again, and it suddenly occurred to her that it sounded much like a groan or a grunt.

"What in the world?" she exclaimed, jumping up and pushing her hands into the hay, pulling it away from the place that Star had been nuzzling at so anxiously. She paused when her hand brushed the lump, and blurted, "It's a _head_!"

"Yes, and there's a body attached," a weak voice said from within the hay pile. "Could I have some help?"

Startled, she hurriedly continued to shove aside piles of hay, unearthing the person within. Grabbing their shoulders, she grunted and heaved, pulling them out. Collapsing to the ground, she stared at the newcomer as he leaned back against the hay, rubbing his head painfully. Her eyes darted from the scratches on his pale face, to the lumps underneath his shirt on his back (Hunchback? Tumor?), and finally to the bloodstain on his shoulder, which his free hand was clasped firmly over.

"Blood!" she uttered dumbly.

"So glad you noticed," he said. "Do you have bandaids? Or gauze? Or some form of _help_ other than your just sitting there?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Hold on, let me put Star back in the barn and I'll—wait, no, your blood—but Star—" She stood, puzzled and harried.

"What is Star?" he asked, head tilting up as she stood.

"Uhm, my horse," she explained, reaching and touching said animal on the shoulder. "He found you."

"Oh," the boy said as Star sighed loudly.

"Uh..." Collecting her thoughts, she put her hands on the boy's arms and heaved him into a standing position. "Star can wander around outside. More than likely he'll just eat up the hay for an hour or two. We're fenced in anyway." She let go of him and walked toward her house, gesturing for him to follow. "We have an emergency kit inside, come on."

He remained, tired and awkward, and said, "I can't see."

She paused and turned. "Can't see? Like...something happened, and you can't see, or you've always been blind?"

"Complicated," he offered. "Let's say it's a bit of both." He shrugged, shifting from one foot to the other.

She returned and put a hand on his arm, tugging him forward. "Come on. Inside. Then we'll talk."

"Talk," he repeated, wincing.

"You appear out of the blue in the fountain of hay in my backyard," she stated flatly as she guided him onto the porch and opened the door. "You expect me to have no questions?"

He wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside with her. "I was hoping you would be the type to ask no questions."

"_Who_ could possibly refrain from asking questions about this?" she demanded. Sighing as she walked into the kitchen, she added, "Never mind. How about this: I make sure you're not about to _die_, then we worry about the questions. I take it you don't want me calling 9-1-1?"

He made another face as she helped him into a chair. "No, not really."

"Go figure," she said sarcastically as she dug in a cabinet and pulled out a big medical box. "You're going to have to take off your shirt, I won't be able to see the cut or whatever."

"Shot," he clarified. "I was shot."

"Shot—Oh, great," she mumbled, pulling a chair up next to him and setting the box down on it. "You're in the mafia."

He laughed. "Not exactly...I was shot by someone belonging to a _type _of _mafia_, though."

"Lovely," she replied. "So, take off your shirt. Or do you need help, or something?"

He shifted in the seat uncomfortably. "Uh, about that..."

_________

"Where are we, Max?" Angel asked softly.. The remainder of my Flock sat in the small, dark cargo space of a van. We were trapped individually within cages, each blindfolded with hands and legs bound tightly to the bars of our confines.

"I don't know, Angel. But considering we're tied to barred cages, I can guess where they're trying to take us," I replied, gritting my teeth. I was such an idiot. Really. This was the—what? Second, third time we'd been caught? And to make it worse, Iggy was nowhere to be found—shot down by some Eraser with a lucky bullet.

"Stop stressing," Fang said quietly. "We'll find some way outta this. They're Erasers, they're not the brightest invention that came from the School."

How could he tell I was stressing? I thought I was doing a pretty good job of sounding calm. "Gazzy, Nudge, you guys okay?" I probed.

"Fine," Gazzy replied from far across the cargo space. "Do you think Iggy was, you know...killed? There was a lot of blood on him before he dropped..."

"I don't know, Gaz," I replied with a sigh. "But I'm going to say 'no', because I think Iggy's too tough to die. Too _stubborn_."

"D'you think so?" Nudge finally said. She'd been very quiet the whole ride—out of guilt. "The _one_ time I stop talking, Iggy needed me, and...It's totally all my fault if he's hurt. I want to go find him! I want to say I'm sorry."

"Nudge, it's not your fault," I replied firmly.

"Someone _shot_ him, Nudge," Fang emphasized. "You couldn't have warned him of that in time."

"Exactly. It was a freak accident and a lucky shot by one of those stupid Erasers." I rested my head against the cage, pulling halfheartedly at the bonds on my wrists. "We'll be fine, guys. We'll get out, and we'll get Iggy. End of subject."

The van we'd been traveling in came to a halt, and the engine was cut off. We fell silent as Erasers climbed out of the front of the van and footsteps stomped around to the doors near us. The doors of the van were opened, as were our cage doors. The cold barrel of a gun was pressed against my neck, halting me from any escape attempt. The same happened to the others, I assume, because Angel gasped quietly and Fang's strong hand slid between the bars of my cage and found my hand, grasping it.

I felt hot breath on my face as Ari leaned into my cage and smugly said, "I hope you sleep well, Maxy. You're in for a surprise when you wake up." A click came from the gun, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Which was stupid, considering I was blindfolded—

He pulled the trigger and a needle struck my neck. I made a face, puzzled...

_Oh_.

Tranquilizer.


	3. 3 Of Birds and Boys

"What?" Cammy asked, arching her eyebrows at Iggy's uncomfortable expression. "It's not like I'm going to rape you or something once you take off the shirt, okay?"

Iggy rolled his eyes and made a face. "That's not the problem."

Cammy frowned as she studied the peculiar boy. "Then what...?" She trailed off, her eyes drawn to the strange lumps under the back of his shirt. "Hm," she mused. "Would it have something to do with whatever's hidden under your shirt? Hunchback, or something? Birth defect?"

"The last one," he said. "Sort of. Look, this isn't a great idea."

Cammy rubbed her temples. "You are bleeding. _Blee-ding_. Whatever is the matter with you, we can address later." She controlled her frustrated confusion. "Do you need help with the shirt? I'll cut it off if it'd be easier?"

He hesitated, and after deciding that she wasn't going to relent, he nodded. "I might not be able to lift my arm."

"Right." She pulled a pair of scissors out of the first-aid kit. "Hold still." She cut through the shirt from collar to waist, and pulled it off like a jacket. "See, it's not that..." She stared at his back. "Woah."

"Yeah," Iggy sighed, tentatively flexing the two very large wings that sprouted from his back. They were a golden color, and as he drew them out to their full length, they spanned well over ten feet.

She swallowed and reached out, touching the closest wing and stroking a few feathers. "Okay," she said slowly, "here's the inevitable question: are you an angel?"

Iggy laughed. "Yeah right. Try, genetically altered."

"Oh," she said dumbly. "Well that's new."

He nodded, and said, "Yeah. Okay, so I'm still bleeding."

Cammy blinked and shook herself out of her reverie. "Right, right." She picked up a cloth and spent a moment in the kitchen soaking it with water, and then busied herself with quietly cleaning up the wound.

A silence fell between them as the worked, making Iggy nervous. He shifted uneasily in the chair, wishing that for just one moment he wasn't blind, so he could see what she was doing to him. She could, for all he knew, be from the School and just tending to him until backup arrived.

_Speaking of backup_, he thought, _I wonder how everyone else is. Where are they?_

"Woah," Cammy said after a moment, breaking the silence. "I can see the bullet...creepy."

"It didn't go _through_ my arm?" he groaned. "I had hoped it wouldn't still be there."

"Me and you both," she exclaimed, staring at the bullet apparently wedged in a bone. "Now what am I going to do? I'm not exactly a surgeon. Should I call—"

"No," he said quickly. "No ambulances or hospitals." He took a calming breath. "You can see it, so it's not that far in. Maybe you can get it out."

She stared at him, stupefied. "You're _kidding_, right? You want me to like, stick tweezers in your arm and get a _bullet_ out?"

"Are you squeamish around blood?" Iggy asked. "I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I need help, whether I really like it or not. So if you can do it..."

Cammy surveyed her supplied, thinking hard. _From what I remember of anatomy class, there're no important muscles there, but..._ She sighed. _This was _so_ not in the emergency health-care lesson._

"Well?" he prompted.

"Do you actually _trust_ me with this?" she inquired, pulling out the tweezers and glancing at him.

"No," he said bluntly, "but my only other choice is gaining a painful, useless arm.

She laughed mirthlessly. "Oh _goody_. Well, I already cleaned up your wound, so I guess I can just get to this. Um..." she placed a hand on his shoulder, to keep him still. _How the _heck_ did I get myself into this?_

"I'm not getting any younger," he muttered. "Just go ahead. I've dealt with worse."

She shook her head. "You sure know how to show a girl a good time." Biting her lip nervously, she worked the tweezers carefully into the gunshot wound, and grabbed the end of the bullet.

_________

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that my wings were in agonizing, aching pain. Secondly, I realized that I wasn't in a cage—I was strapped to a wall. I tried to flex my wings and groaned in pain. They were unfolded and stretched out, also strapped tightly to the wall and pinned through the bone to incapacitate them.

"Where...?" I croaked, glancing at the rest of the room. The rest of my flock was in the same situation—shackled to the wall—and all but Fang were unconscious. Said member was staring hard down at the floor.

"This is not good," he said quietly.

"I've realized that," I mumbled. "_Where_ are we? We're not in cages... Is it the School?"

He shrugged. "I woke up once earlier, and there was a white-coat in here. But she ignored me completely and just stood there, writing on a clipboard."

I sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "My wings are killing me. They really ache."

He nodded in agreement. "It's not going to be easy to get out of here, and you know they realize it."

"Yeah, that's why we're pinned to the wall like a biology diorama," I added.

He shrugged slightly as the single door to the bare room was slung open. I narrowed my eyes in disgust as Ari walked in with an ugly smile. He glanced around before walking over to Fang.

"Well, well," he rumbled, "don't you look comfy. How do you like the new holding cell?" He grabbed Fang's face and chuckled at him. "You're completely harmless now. It's almost pathetic, in a way."

"At least I'm not ugly," Fang replied coolly. "_I_ may be strapped to a wall, but _you're_ disgustingly hideous. I can escape my problem."

Ari's smile flickered and he growled. "Watch it, birdy."

"Where are we?" I asked, changing the subject before tensions between the two of them grew any higher. "The School?"

Ari let go of Fang and looked at me. "Not the original School. We're in Mississippi, at a smaller headquarters." He smirked. "A 'mini-school' or sorts."

"And, what," I pushed, "you're going to transport us to the real School later? Is this a pit stop?"

He threw his head back and laughed. "To the place you know like the back of your hand, where you can easily find the escape routes? No." He strolled over to the unconscious Angel and put a hand on her head, stroking her bouncy curls.

"Back off," I snapped, bristling.

He sneered, walking back to the door and saying, "I hope you enjoy your stay." He waved in two white-coated doctors. "We'll try to make your stay as _comfortable_ as possible."

"Ari, you-!" I called out angrily as he left, but the look Fang sent me made me stop. He nodded at the doctors, who were currently unstrapping Nudge from the wall. "What are you doing with her?" I demanded. They ignored me and placed her on a gurney, and wheeled her out of the room. "_Hey_!"

Fang sighed. "Max..."

I glanced at him before my shoulders sagged and I hung my head. "Fang. What are we going to do?"

_________

Cammy finished wrapping Iggy's shoulder and tucked the gauze bandages back into the box. She surveyed her tweezers and cloth, both coated with a fine layer of blood. She swayed slightly and put a hand on the back of Iggy's chair to steady herself.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he ran him fingers over the bandages, checking out her work.

"Oh _sure_," she said sarcastically, wiping off the tweezers and putting them and the towel in the sink, to be worried over in the near future. "I just lived out a mini-episode of _House_, but I'm _fine_. What about you?"

"Rarin' to go," he replied with an equal tone, twirling his finger in the air. "I could use a shirt."

"Hold on, my dad might have something that'll work," she replied, exiting the room and entering her father's quarters. She pulled open drawers, searching for a decent T-shirt for Iggy to borrow.

_How did this happen?_ She wondered, shaking her head. _One second I'm feeding Star. The next, I'm performing minor surgery on a genetically-altered bird-boy!_ She tugged a brown T-shirt out of the drawer and headed back into the kitchen. _Wohoo, Sci-fi._

"Here," she said, handing him the shirt. "It might be a bit big, but it'll work."

"Thanks," he replied, carefully pulling it on his injured arm and then over his head, enveloping his wings underneath. She peered over his shoulder as they folded neatly against his back and practically disappeared.

"There's a recess in my skin on either side of my spine," he explained, as if reading her thoughts. "That's why they're barely visible.

"Why were they so obvious and lumpy before?" she asked.

"I fell out of the sky," he said flatly. "It was all I could do to fold them enough to hide them under my shirt before you blacked out in your hay pile."

"Oh," she mumbled, pulling up a chair. "So, speaking of that, spill it."

He blinked. "Spill what?"

"Everything," she said, spreading her hands out. "You have _wings_, you got _shot_, and you're being chased by a perpetual _mafia_. So, _why_?"

Iggy winced. "I can't tell you everything, because I can't really trust you."

She frowned. "Okay, well...first question, then: Are there more like you?"

He nodded. "A few others. My flock. I guess they got captured, or maybe escaped."

"What's this organization that's after you?"

"The School," Iggy replied, and he shook his head when he heard her small snicker. "No joke, it's called The School. It experiments on humans. Me and my flock make up a section of the tiny percentage of successful genetic experiments."

"Okay," she said. "And so you were shot by these people, and ended up in my backyard."

"Pretty much." He rubbed his blind eyes tiredly. _I shouldn't be telling her anything, but all of this isn't really secretive, so..._

"So," she said, raising her eyebrows. "What are you gonna do now?"

He paused. "...I'll go hunt down my flock, I guess."

"You can find them?" she asked. "I mean...blind."

_She's right_, he thought miserably. _What _am_ I gonna do?_ "I...no. Probably not." _I hate being blind._

She watched an expression of exasperated irritation cross his face. "Sorry," she apologized. "Didn't mean to irritate you. I wish I could help." She scratched her head. "Seriously, you're, um...sort of ...stuck."

He slumped down in the chair, exhausted. "So I noticed."

_Dad comes home tomorrow evening,_ she mused. _I suppose he might have pity, and..._ She shrugged and offered, "You can hang around, if you think it's best. My dad's pretty easygoing, and my brother is...well, he'll get over it. Until you figure out what to do next, you can crash here." She looked up at Iggy, and noticed that his eyes were closed. "Well? Iggy?" She waved a hand in his face, then scrunched her nose. _He's blind, stupid. Stop that._ She gently shook his shoulder. When he didn't respond, Cammy rolled her eyes. "He's paranoid that I'm one of the bad guys, and yet he falls asleep anyway."

Leaving him in peace, she put up the medic kit and began to tend to the mess she'd created, such as the bloody items in the sink. As she threw the towel into the washing machine and cranked it on, an orange blur darted out from under a laundry basket and halted in front of Iggy.

"Scat, Rat," Cammy hissed at her cat (yes, named Rat). "Just because he's half bird doesn't mean that he's a snack for you." She picked up the feline, who purred in response, and she sighed.

"How," she mused aloud, "Will I manage to _explain _this to Dad?"


End file.
